


labor by singing light

by pathygen



Series: are we afraid (or are we alive?) [2]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams and Nightmares, Multi, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21944662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pathygen/pseuds/pathygen
Summary: Princess or Queen, friend or foe.Rapunzel isn't sure who first lit the spark that set off the blaze, but she won't let Cassandra be consumed by the flames.Companion piece to strings.
Relationships: Cassandra/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Series: are we afraid (or are we alive?) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564513
Comments: 11
Kudos: 127





	labor by singing light

_There’s still a chance to save her._

“Well, we still don’t know what the moonstone is _doing_ to her, Sunshine.” Eugene says, sat backwards on a chair in the center of Cassandra’s room. “Magnificent cosmic destiny aside we’re still not sure what it was going to do to _you_. Edmund spent years just hanging around that thing and he’s..well..” he waves his hand, “..unconventional. And I mean that in the best way possible. Really.” 

“She’s _afraid_ Eugene.” Rapunzel says. The princess pulls a wicked-looking serrated blade from the wardrobe and scrutinizes it before placing it back onto the shelf. “And I can’t explain why, but I have this— this feeling like.. like it’s only going to get _worse_.” With a frustrated sigh she drops onto the edge of the bed and pushes her hair behind her ear. “If we don’t do anything, soon.”

“Is that why we’re going through her things again?” The former-thief stands up and sits down beside her, bed creaking. 

“I don’t know. I was hoping..” Rapunzel chews her lip, staring into the sharp contents of the wardrobe. “That there would be some kind of clue. A hint. Something..” a whisper, “..something I missed.” 

_All of it. Everything that she had missed. Was still missing._

“I know there’s no easy answer, but I want to understand her… I thought I did.” she says. “And maybe that was the problem.”

“Cass was never very good at letting anyone in. That’s not your fault.” Eugene answers. “As for the terrifying rocks, well. Cass has always been a bit, you know—” He curls his fingers, clawing at the air. “ _Grrrrra_ - _ha-ha_. We know it’s dangerous. We saw what the stone did to the Dark Kingdom. And it’s people.” A pause, and then he loops a hand around hers. “So we just have to figure out—”

From across the room, there is a sudden clatter; followed by a series of high-pitched chirps. Pascal, perched on a book on the writing desk waves his tiny forelegs and points hurriedly towards one tall gothic window, where a bedraggled brown shape scrapes against the glass. In an instant, Rapunzel is up and over the bed, reaching out. 

“ _Owl_ —!!”

She fumbles with the latch and the tired bird allows himself to be scooped up with minimal complaint.

He looks exhausted, feathers sticking up at odd windswept angles. Evidence of a long hard flight; and there’s even a line of dried blood scoring up one of this thin legs. He settles with an indignant but grateful trill, and blinks sadly up at her. Rapunzel exchanges a look with Eugene across the room, as a cold chill creeps in from the open window. They knew the bird had stayed behind with her; but what could’ve caused him to come back alone?

“Owl,” she whispers, “What’s happening to Cass?” 

_rapunzel wakes to the beating of wings_

_the sound stops and starts; a whisper of a rhythm, a flutter, here and there. she follows, running her hands along the pale bright walls of the palace halls; empty and pristine. the doors of the throne room tower, draped in white-gold. they barely weigh anything when she pushes against them._

_the light filtering through the stained glass windows warms the hall. the flowerbeds lie empty. ahead, at the front of the hall between the thrones stands a pedestal of etched stone; spherical and honeycombed; prominent. she approaches the meteorite and finds it cool to the touch. cool and still._

_inside is a bird._

_tiny; red-breasted with brown and black feathers. black eyes that regard her blankly, then not at all. it beats its wings, and opens its beak; the tiny chest rises, but no sound comes out._

_rapunzel pushes against the iron, but the gaps are too small for her hands to reach in. she opens her mouth to call it closer, to brush her fingers against the feathers, but she is voiceless, and the room trembles, and everything erupts in a pearly blaze of light._

The reconstruction of Old Corona continues and repairs start on the capital as well. Carts full of gravel are hauled in to fill the holes left by the rocks, roads are repaved and buildings reinforced. The palace hums with workers who paint and patch the breaches. Mrs. Crowley sweeps through the halls like a hurricane and every servant and cloud of plaster-dust moves out of her way.

“I want to go _look_ for her, Eugene—” But. 

But. She eventually sits her parents down and tries to explain what had happened to them. With the rocks, with Cassandra, the more pertinent bits. Their room in the palace was high enough up in the towers that they weren’t affected by the incident, but the panic around the city still made it’s impression. The damage to their memories leaves them puzzled and impressionable in turns; though they have their love for her, and now, each other again. Slowly, they recall things in bits and pieces, and occasionally forget again. She wants so _badly_ to curl up in her mother’s lap and weep out everything that had happened on the trip; the way it all ended in the Dark Kingdom. She could, still, but it doesn’t seem fair; to burden them further and receive their muddled comfort. 

_“With all due respect, your majesty, your parents are not in a..fair enough state to be left alone in charge of the kingdom.”_ Nigel, and common sense. Responsibility. Sometimes she feels like she wants to scream, but her people need to know that they’re being taken care of, that she can _handle_ it. So she paints instead, fervently. 

Together in the evening they sit outside in the terrace for supper, just the three of them. Rapunzel pushes her grilled trout around on her plate and smiles. She listens to her mother speak animatedly about picking up steeple-chasing again, while her father chuckles along and stares at her like she’s holding up the sky. If anything, at least they seem happy. She places her fork down and chews her lip. The question creeps in. 

“Mom, dad.” she says, interrupting. “Do you remember...anything about Cassandra, when she was growing up here?”

The conversation across the table stills. Her mother sends her a warm, if curious look, and exchanges a thoughtful glance with the King. “Cassandra.” Arianna muses. “You mentioned her, before. She was the little girl? Lovely dark hair. Shy and..a handful; but..oh, yes.” Her eyes soften, as does her voice. “The Captain brought her back. She was..”

“It should have been you.” Her father intones, sudden and grim. He’s staring off across the garden, and Rapunzel doesn’t have to see his face to know. A familiar shadow settles over the table. A heavy pause. She grips the edge of the tablecloth, tight.

_“And then she left.” Cassandra spat. “With you.”_

“Frederic..” Arianna places a hand on his arm, and he starts, drawn from the reverie. The lines on his face settle as he turns towards his daughter, his smile placid. “My apologies, dear. It’s all..still very cloudy.”

“..It’s alright, dad.” Rapunzel says, even though it’s not. Because that said a lot, and yet, nowhere near enough. She picks up her fork again, and the lighter discussion resumes.

Dread settles in her stomach, and leaves no space for the rest of the meal. 

Doubt comes in, at night, when she’s alone in her room. 

Well, mostly alone. Eugene is only ever a few floors away, but they still separate in the late evening to avoid giving her parents a heart attack should they wander in ( _again_ ; no thank you). As acting Queen she shed a number of her father’s rules like a moth leaving a cocoon, but..still, it mattered. For now. 

And Pascal. The little lizard balances on her knee, his wide eyes bright with concern. The princess smiles at her oldest friend and rubs her fingers over the bumpy scales on his back, the way he likes. The night air breezes cool against her skin, and carries her loose hair far over the side of the balcony where she lounges on the railing with precarious balance. The whole island, shining below; her Kingdom. 

Rapunzel has never really had a problem with heights. 

_I really did try Rapunzel; I tried to warn you what was out there._

_I tried to warn you, Rapunzel._

How, how, _how?_ There had never been an inkling, not a trace, not a _slip._ Eighteen long years that woman had pretended to be her mother and Gothel had never once breathed a word of other children. And why would she; lies on top of lies, to keep her chained there, smothered and obedient. What is must have been like for _her._

 _Oh Cass._ It was all so horrible. 

She wipes furiously at the tears the prickle warm in the corner of her eyes. Hates the thought; selfish that it is, of loss in layers. That it makes her second guess every interaction; strips back her memories like turpentine on canvas. Cass had been the first real _connection_ that she’d been able to make outside the tower that.. a relationship with someone that Gothel hadn’t harmed in some way. And now even _that_ was.. it was..

_The world is dark, and selfish and cruel._

_You have to be careful who you trust._

_Sisters,_ she had said, as if that would re-draw some kind of positive line between them. _Stupid, naive._ Pascal chirps with worry and leans against her hand and Rapunzel gives him a watery but reassuring smile. The chameleon climbs into her open palm and she presses him close against her forehead. “This can’t be all there is, Pascal.” There was always more to a story. She can’t believe it, she _doesn’t._ Cassandra was more, is more; and even if..even if Cass hates her now, it is for more than _Gothel_ . Something is _wrong._ And that means that maybe.. 

“I’m _not_ giving up on her, I can’t. She needs our help.” Cass is her best friend, and she has faith that she will come back, one way or another. She wasn’t— Gothel. She wouldn’t let that tear Cass out of her heart, she couldn’t let fear take hold. A spark set off, and maybe she _was_ the cause, but she wasn’t going to let Cassanda be consumed by the flames. Not again. Swinging her legs around, Rapunzel steps firmly back onto the balcony proper while Pascal clings to her shoulder. She twists her hair back up in long, determined weaves. There was always a way _._

And she was going to find it, no matter what.

“It’s been _three_ days Eugene; are you sure that your father said he could reach her in time?” Rapunzel paces up and down the length of the ready room and circles the table like a shark. In her hands she clutches a loose sheaf of papers which she keeps fervently shifting through. Crop reports, requests to review taxes in light of the increasing restoration movement, drafts of her missive requesting any information or sightings of Cass to send to Quaid — “Not that I doubt Edmund’s ah; _reliability_ ; but I think the matter is a little more time sensitive than we maybe—?”

“Blondie, Blondie; I know.” Eugene says graciously, half-distracted by trying to coax Owl down from where the bird is perched on a decorative suit of armor. He shoots her a glance over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “But you’re overloaded enough as it is! Impressive as one man’s mysterious ability to direct a flock of creepy crows across the country might be, it may just take a bit longer than we were thinking.”

A pause. Concern flickers across his face. “You should really take a moment too.”

“I can take a moment when I know Corona and Cassandra are both safe.”

“You’re going to run yourself into the ground. Let Nigel and Stan (“ _Stan!?_ ..Sorry, that was mean.”) handle more of the Kingdom affairs, and Cass she’s— strong.” Still, there's drawl in his voice that suggests he’s still undecided on if that is a good or bad thing, given the situation. 

“Besides, we know she’s as stubborn her—stupid—bird.” Eugene continues, rattling a bowl at the unimpressed Owl, who blinks waspishly at him. “I thought she fed you _beans._ What, _my_ beans aren’t good enough for —Ow—ow—ow—all right—okay, _come on_ already— _yggh_ —!!”

A chuckle sounds from the doorway. “You should probably just let him out to hunt Fish-skin, before he takes anything you might miss.” Adira leans up against the frame, smirking. Months on and the warrior looks hardly changed from when they last saw her in the Dark Kingdom, although there is a new, heavy looking steel sword slung across her back. She exudes an easy confidence, and the princess brightens instantly. 

“Adira! You came!” Rapunzel drops her papers on the table and sprints forward with her arms nearly outstretched; before she remembers and tucks them behind her back, shrugging instead with a returned smile. She stands up a little straighter, even as relief fills her voice. “I was starting to wonder.”

The warrior smiles warmly at her, and bows. “Your majesty. We received your message from the King. I apologize that it took us longer than intended to arrive.” She steps into the ready room, and immediately sets to inspecting the tiny carved figures laid out on the kingdom map, as if that was that. 

“Wait, we who?” Eugene harries, as he moves to the princess’s side, arms folded. Movement, from the entrance. Rapunzel narrows her eyes as a dark, thin shape looms in Adira’s wake.

“Who indeed..princeling.” The shadow replies, striding through the door. Sneer permanently in place, Hector curls his fingers against the side of the frame and appraises them all with look of peak disdain. He inclines his head slightly in Rapunzel’s direction. “..Your highness.” 

Rapunzel tenses and Eugene bristles. The dauntless aura that followed Adira in flickers cold. The last time they saw Hector he was being dragged away by his pets as Adira followed, after her attempted use of the withering spell had sapped the Great Tree dry. But where Adira looked as strong and collected as ever there was something..off about the man. Peaky almost; he was pale before but now there was an almost waxy quality to his skin, a run-down air like he’d just climbed a mountain not a few minutes earlier. His stale grass-green eyes narrow slightly as they rest on her, and Rapunzel clenches her fists. 

_essence, like draining a well, and a void of sorrow, regret and black fire_

Eugene speaks first. “Oh _no_ , I don’t think so.” He looks sideways at the other warrior, a wild gesture. “Adira, you brought this psychopath here with you? Did you forget he tried to kill us twice? Rhinos and evil trees, ring any bells?”

Hector jeers, steady, long arms at his side and fingers hooking into his belt. “Your father also tried to kill you all, to stop you from seeking the power of the opal. Hardly new.”

“Fine, so people always try to kill us, that’s besides the point!”

“Eugene.” Rapunzel steps forward, a firm but gentle hand on his side. He grimaces, but when he looks down at her the decisive look on her face makes him pause. The princess addresses Adira, though she doesn’t pull her gaze away from Hector, or his predatory glower. “Despite how..everything ended, Adira, we have always been able to count on you. If you trust him..”

“Oh I don’t.” Adira says brightly, without hesitation, and Rapunzel is reminded that she was a woman who preferred to work alone. Or maybe the brotherhood bred a different kind of trust. Adira picks up a wooden guard and tosses it, catching, still casual. “But he’s useful, and he owes me, for saving his life. So we are together, for now.”

Eugene asks, wary, “What’s in it for you, scarecrow-man?”

The dark brother seems to shift in place, less a confident stretch and more of a twitch. He doesn’t grin so much as he bares his teeth. “I have beheld the..potential of the sundrop, as Adira said.” Rapunzel suppresses a wince. “My duty has always been to keep the moonstone from falling into the wrong hands. This is merely an..extension, of that will.” His grin twists into a snarl, slow. Hector’s shoulders hunch, and the wide collar of fur makes him look even more like a slightly malnourished beast. He takes an intimidating step forward, a bitter curl to his lips. 

“Even if his majesty allowed you to _waltz_ into that chamber and proved me _right.”_

Right. A flash of light, the opal _taken_ , Cassandra furious. _Betrayal._ Helping or not, _right_ or not, Rapunzel wasn’t going to let him hound her here in her own court. “Adira.” She cuts the rant she can sense building off at the pass, and her voice is so suddenly regally sharp the other three actually pause. Eugene watches her, warm. Adira nods, and shoots the brother a warning glance.

The acting Queen takes a deep breath. “I want to know if you can help me find her. Corona was..bombarded by some unusual crimson stones a few weeks ago, but other than that we don’t know where Cassandra is, or what is going on. With her, or the opal. I was hoping you might..know more.”

Adira nods again, and turns the wooden guard over in her hands. “Yes, we saw those, briefly.” Another look of caution sent Hector’s way, who leans against the wall in response, glaring. She continues, circling the table like Rapunzel had been earlier. “I commenced in tailing her movements on and off, some time after she fled from the Dark Kingdom. From a distance. Hector, I convinced to..aid me, eventually in the search, but we lost track of her at the edges of the Bevisst Sea. If she’s surfaced on this side at last, it means we will be able to pick up the trail again.”

 _Across the sea._ Rapunzel thinks. _Cass where are you going?_

Hector drawls, “And what, your highness, do you intend for us to do when we do find your wayward lady-in-waiting again. The moonstone has driven men to madness for less.”

Rapunzel stares pointedly at him, and he raises his chin. “I need to know what is.. going on. More information. _Talk_ to her; let her know that she can come back. I don’t believe that she would attack Corona on her own, that is _not_ who Cassandra is.” She looks down at the map of the Kingdom and unease finally breaks through. “I would be going myself if I could, I’m..” she sighs. “I’m worried about her. For her.”

“That weak heart cost you last time—” 

“Enough.” Adira says now, painted face inclined. Apologetic maybe, but there’s still something hard behind her eyes that Rapunzel can’t place, an old experience. “Princess Rapunzel we would be honored to do this for you.” The warrior grins. “Frankly, I was going to do it whether you asked or not.”

Before they leave, Adira addresses her alone off to the side. “I know that it’s your wish for your friend to return to you, your highness. We will do our best, but you have to know that.. people change, in ways we don’t always desire or expect. Grief and anger are not so easily shaken.” She pauses, and hands over the polished guard figurine. “Hector isn’t entirely wrong. Our dynasty jealously guarded the opal for centuries for a reason. It’s never before..taken to someone.”

_She’s the one who left you._

Rapunzel brushes a finger over the abstract curve of a helmet. She wonders if Adira is disappointed that her plan to lead them to the Dark Kingdom had ended the way it did; if caring for and dragging volatile Hector along behind her was a way of taking responsibility. She almost asks. Instead, she says; “If I was in her place, she wouldn’t stop at anything to make sure I was safe.” Cassandra hadn’t, time and time again. And she.. _an egg, a curse, distant dreams of the wing and the sky._ She wasn’t resistant to change. Change had set her free, but she’d had to chase it. What was she chasing now? “I understand. Thank you, Adira. For everything. Please be safe.”

“Alright Varian! What have you got for me; ancient sundrop secrets? Moonstone mysteries? Demanitus..demanitizing. Please say you have _something.”_

The teenager stares at her, blinking, calipers frozen in midair. “Oh, the scroll. Uh well. You see, it’s a rather complex series of scripture; the cryptograms even _shift_ sometimes, probably as a fail-safe in case people tried to decode it without the cipher; which is _fascinating,_ and I’ve got a few words that might be _smoothing?_ Or maybe..beret..Oh..oh that is..not an expression I have seen before on you, wow.”

Rapunzel groans and puts her head down on the table. By way of apology she shoves the basket full of food and treats she brought across the surface. Ruddiger chitters and the raccoon immediately shoves two blueberry scones into his mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs, leaning her chin on her hand. She flicks a crumb across the bench where it dinks against a vial of purple salt. “It’s been a long...everything. I don’t actually expect you to be working on it twenty-four seven.” It was partially why she had brought all the food.

Varian lifts off his goggles and sets them down before lifting a protesting Ruddiger out of the basket. “No! I get it, you’re under a lot of stress, and I mostly am, with a few different experiments running in the background. Royal edict, and all.” He grins widely and she returns it, sitting back, one brow raised.

“Experiments, _outside_ of New Old Corona.” he assures. “Nothing I can’t handle this time; dad would probably put _me_ under the towns new foundations if I brought anything else down on this place. Did you know he used to be part of a secret order of knights? Two of them showed up the other day and ate everything in the house. There were _binturongs_ , they’re not even native to this climate.”

Ruddiger hisses, from where he’s back in the basket. “..Yeah buddy they sort of freaked me out too.

“What else have you been working on?” The princess asks, eyeing the collection of research material; vials of some silver substance, bottles of verdigris.

“Ah well.” He looks momentarily sheepish. “You know, a few more tests on the stones, again, _outside_ of town; because of what happened before. I wasn’t sure..how prepared we should be.” An uncomfortable stir, at the topic. Treason, that precarious line. Friends, gone. 

Rapunzel blinks. “There are still black rocks standing around Corona? I thought they all retreated when we used the amber solution.” Except for the ones that were trapped in it.

“I did too!” Varian says, pulling over a map. “But I was out canvassing for a spot for the new laboratory, and I came across a small patch down by the river. I can’t say why it stayed, but it’s been useful for collecting gibbous scrapings.” The alchemist shrugs and points out the spot. 

“Maybe it was just overlooked, somehow.”

_rapunzel crawls out of bed and diligently follows the frantic sound of beating wings._

_again, the castle is silent and empty. the light filtering in is dimmer than before; a cool pale glow that settles on her skin like still air. feathers, falling, the only sound she can hear, like the drumming of a heart. confusing; feathers shouldn’t make that sound, they were not heavy enough. apprehension. but it leads her back to the throne room all the same._

_she pushes on the doors, and they creak._

_the hall stretches on, longer than it should be. the once empty flower beds are filled with what looks like..sand, and small stones, pieces of driftwood and seaweed. shimmery shards of broken and twisted shell. it smells like salt, and something sweeter. if she puts her ear close to the surface, she can hear the waves._

_the meteor cage between the thrones has been overtaken by a growth of thin, reedy vines. they weave between the gaps in the stone, and tiny leaves curve up the sides. thorns, long straight thin ones, and tiny curling barbed ones point inwards. The bird inside, with it’s black eyes and brown feathers rustles, unable to perch farther than the center of the iron sphere, where the thorns do not yet reach._

_It opens its beak and looks up at her, and the tiny throat moves, and it is silent._

She never chooses a new lady-in-waiting, not officially. _Motivation_ , Rapunzel has in spades. She grew up doing a household’s worth of tasks before the sun came up; so when it comes to schedules, she stays up into the evening and designs her own, with color coded sections and tabs that pull out. She rigs a simple alarm to wake her in the morning, and Eugene and Lance try to trail behind her exchanging worried glances they think she doesn’t notice. She makes time for her parents, and time for Eugene, and time for Pascal, and the meetings, and for holding public court, and she does _not_ schedule in time for staring out the window, thinking about thorn-birds and wondering if Cassandra is any closer to Corona than she was a day ago. 

Her journal fills up with sketches of feathered stones and Cass’s eyes in shadow and she shakes the hands of dignitaries with charcoal on her fingers.

There are some things she can’t do on her own.

Mainly things that fall under the iron will of Mrs. Crowley; the housekeeping and the enormous day-to-day of managing the castle workflow. Two servants are assigned to help her with the little things and she is familiar somewhat with both; Lila, a thin, quietly focused girl from the eastern fishing hamlet and Johanna; the mousy servant who she had judged a little too harshly after the tunnels had failed to impress. And it is..fine, and she is _grateful_ but Rapunzel finds herself chafing oddly at the strange distance, the things that do and do not feel familiar, and combined with her hectic schedule it puts her on edge more than she likes. She’s never quite gotten the hang of putting on a corset single handed and her hair takes _ages_ to wash and dry. So when she sits down with Johanna and the girl snags the brush one too many times, Rapunzel finally turns and _snaps_ that she could just do it herself because it would be _faster._

The princess wholly, truly, does not expect the servant girl to burst into tears. 

Guilt hits her like an avalanche. She stares in horror. She’s never made anyone cry in her entire life. All she wants to do is take it back. She can’t remember the last time she _saw_ someone cry that wasn’t..herself. 

“Johanna I am _so so_ sorry.” She takes the brush from the younger girl and pulls her into a hug. “I shouldn’t have done that, it won’t happen again. You are doing a _great_ job.”

“It’s n- not just—”

The words pour out; a cavalcade of stress. Crowley’s expectations; assisting the _Queen_ . How she tried to visit distant family after the events of Varian’s attack, how she became trapped as a _bird_ for weeks, forgot herself, and then was saved, and she had been happy and then confused, and how the long trip back had been harrowing. And now; the rocks, that brought terror, and the uncertain fervor the shook the castle daily. 

Rapunzel listens, and she comforts, and it seems to help, for what it’s worth. She sends the girl away with promises to talk more in the future and when she’s gone she sheds some exhausted tears of her own. 

Later, she curls up against Eugene in his small bed, the quiet comfort a room where they can be alone together, and she groans. “I _am_ a despicable human being.”

“ _You_ are a monarch single handedly running a Kingdom that’s always in some kind of weird peril at least once a week.” He brushes hair out of her face, “Sunshine, everyone has a breaking point. It’s amazing that you want to help so many people and take on what you do, and I know this..thing with Cass hasn’t been easy, but. That works two ways.”

Rapunzel sighs. “I know.” She does. She’s going to have to give some ground, even if it’s not easy. When she’s busy it was just..easier to not feel so pulled against the grain. It ached, less, or in a different way that _made_ things happen. “It’s not just that. People go through so much; they have these histories and these things that follow them and I...” She frowns, picking idly at a button on his jacket. “I should have noticed.” She feels like she used to. When did she _stop? What else had she missed?_ “She couldn’t even tell me what was wrong. Because I’m... the Queen.” Because there were _places_ and people in them.

“Life is really different.” she breathes, and he holds her close. “Than what I imagined in the tower.”

She’s in the middle of painting when Stan arrives in a breathless huff, to tell her the Captain has finally returned. Rapunzel rushes into the throne room like a fox escaping the chase, to see the Captain grimly attempting to brush off the royal medic. He’s dressed in worn sun-bleached plainclothes and his face is half covered by a bushy brown beard; the skin on his forehead peached and sun-burnt. On his other side, Pete is speaking with a great amount of flourish, much to his obvious consternation. The Captain stands quickly when he sees her, and greets with a tired but vigorous salute. Pete simmers down, and steps aside.

“Your majesty. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see that you’re safe.” 

“Captain!” Rapunzel nearly hugs him, and wishes frankly that everyone reappearing these days was more receptive to hugs. She’s so relieved to see him it overshadows the building tide of dread at what she has to say. “We’re happy that _you’re_ safe. We’ve been trying to find you.”

“Yes, with..birds. I noticed.” He sighs and rubs a hand through his beard, wincing at the unkempt state of it. There’s a moment where he appears to gather his thoughts. Then, “I set out after it was clear that your parents had become..compromised. The Saporian threat.. I regret that.. I wasn’t able to protect them. That I didn’t stay.” Guilt settles heavy in his voice. She suddenly gets the impression that the wand of oblivium had maybe meant to take a third victim. 

Rapunzel opens her mouth to speak, to reassure him that they’re fine, that it wasn’t his fault (her concerns about Varian being in _prison_ pushed aside for the moment) but he holds up a hand and shakes his head. She pauses.

“It was my intention to find you and the caravan and bring you back to Corona, to help but..” He gestures at his clothes, the entire state of him. He looks a little thinner, maybe. “I became stranded, on some island. Outside Neserdnia. Getting off proved..more difficult than I imagined.” 

“What matters is that you’re back now.” Rapunzel says. She takes a breath and tries to steady herself. There’s a tremble in her hands she can’t hide. She just has to say it. “Captain..”

“And Pete has been...helpfully filling me in on some of the more recent events.”

She freezes. _Oh great, oh no._ It’s like almost stepping off an edge. “Oh?” 

The Captain of the Guard stares down at the young sovereign, one fist curled against his chest. “Your highness.” His voice is deep, and there’s military restraint tying down a windstorm of thought; and carefully repressed anger. “Where is my daughter?”

She’s never really explained it in full, before. And she doesn’t know where to start so she picks the beginning; the moment they left Corona’s borders. The dangers, and the obstacles. Her risk, and Cassandra’s worry. The growing strain and stress between the group; the scrolls and the Great Tree..

The..the burn. Cass, weary on the road, and hiding sickness. Destiny and the push. The explanation stumbles there. She expects fury, but the Captain is silent, and she drags herself through the story again. When she gets to the door, and what and how Cassandra revealed to them what she saw behind it, Rapunzel stops because the Captain flinches, bodily. Still, he doesn’t speak. She wishes he would, wishes he would say something, because speaking it like this makes it feel real in a way all her strange dreams hasn’t. It gives them a new weight. 

By the time they’re all caught up; with the retreat of the crimson stones and Adira tracking Cass who-knows-where, the light in the throne room has gone purple-red. They’ve both been standing the entire time. Eugene dragged Pete off somewhere around the start; and they are alone.

Rapunzel leans forward. “It’s—”

“It’s my fault.” 

Her words tumble out of his mouth. She stares at him, bleakly. He has his face in his hand, and drags it through the beard again. She’s never seen the man look so old. There are a hundred things she could say, needs to. What she does however, is, “Captain..” a beat, “What happened when you brought Cassandra back?” _Who was she?_

He sighs, heavily. He starts to move and she almost panics thinking he means to leave, but the Captain only sits down on the steps leading to the throne. Something very against the rules, she knows. He’s a methodical man; and where orders come quick whatever this is seems to take a lot more time to get started.

“I would never speak ill of the King, your highness. You have to understand that when you were stolen, the entire Kingdom fell into despair; our hope for the future, taken. No one was more devastated than he and your mother were.”

She sits down beside him. Pascal presses close against her neck. Rapunzel listens.

“They knew..where she came from and that..created a tension, that did lessen over time. Eventually.” Maybe. He looks up at the tapestry behind the throne, the burning sun. “She was so young. By the time a few months had passed it was like she couldn’t even remember what had happened, and it seemed kinder to leave it at that. I was never..the type of man who planned to be a father. Cassandra was..spirited, and there were incidents, but she grew accustomed to the palace life. When she picked up a sword and started climbing the castle walls and falling out of trees..I wanted to do everything I could to protect her.”

 _It should have been you,_ her father had said. _My whole life I’ve been pushed aside for you._

Cass never spoke about her childhood, because Cass didn’t like to let people in. Glimpses, here and there. Roots she never saw, never knew. Because when Cassandra was with her, she became a different person. 

“And I thought that meant..distracting her from a more dangerous life. Until I was sure she was ready.” Lady-in-Waiting. Servant. Cass, giving up her spot in an army; her indignation and passion glimpsed in a ring. The empty throne room catches the ends of their conversation and reverberates it back, like sound in a church. _Ready, ready._ The Captain glances up at the ceiling, and they sit together, for a good long while. 

_Cass, are you happy here?_

With the return of the Captain, the Corona Crownsguard fashions itself back into a regimented, ordered shape in a way that it hasn’t been in months. Patrols are increased and a renewed energy seems to take every man with a sword and spear. Pete and Stan never looked so happy to be back to standing around outside her doors again. 

“Command maybe isn’t the place for me.” The moustached man says, and Rapunzel smiles and reassures him he did well and thanks the stars if she never has to talk him down from a coffee and anxiety fueled breakdown about erroneous armor shipments again. She wishes she could say the same for the Captain. He plants himself in the work, and spends a lot of time patrolling out by the border wall. 

Winter is on the horizon. There are matters of organizing food stores; bringing in the last harvests and concerns about over-fishing in certain spots around the capital waters. Months ago, she could never have realized how much of a running a Kingdom involved wading through tomes of economic information but Corona was a trade power; and their typically short cold season made their harvests larger and more sustainable than other places in the seven Kingdoms and beyond. Blessed by the Sun, as the saying went. 

“Are we done for the day yet Nigel?” she asks, once Earl the shepherd is on his way with an outline concerning the new wool trading agreement with Bayangor. 

“Almost, your majesty. Court is closed but there are a few messages of possible interest that have come in from the east. Pittsford has some concerns about their winter grain stores, it seems their crops are doing poorly this year as well. And there has been some..unrest, on the border between Ingvarr and Koto, though the exact nature of the conflict is unclear. It is being looked into. You also have a scroll, that has arrived via a most… unpleasant falcon from Vardaros..”

“Vardaros?” She sits up straighter on the throne and the royal adviser hands it over without another word. It’s sealed with a tiny speck of old, brown looking wax and stamped with..maybe the face of a coin? She unfurls it, trepidatious.

_Princess Rapunzel,_

_Sorry if this letter finds you short. The city’s coming back up but there’s still not a huge call for letters out here. In your last you asked if I could let you know if there was any sign of something peculiar going on with the black stones, or any word on Cassandra. Sorry to hear that there’s been some trouble; Vardaros folk don’t take to many but she was a kindred spirit. A fair lot of the rocks changed color some time back and it caused a..stir, but it seemed to settle soon after. No harm done there. Tough folk._

_You said blue hair, now? Funny that. There’s been some whispers of someone coming in, bringing trouble with them. Folks also get tetchy when questions start getting asked and blood’s involved._

_I’ll keep you in the loop if anything more turns up._

_Best of luck,_

_Captain Eran Quaid_

_Sheriff of Vardaros_

The princess stares at the letter. The rough, cheap parchment crinkles beneath her fingers. _Blue hair. Blood involved._ What did that _mean_ ? Cassandra wouldn’t.. she wanted to be a _hero._

“Your majesty? Are you alright?” Nigel questions with concern, from the bottom of the dais. 

“Just a headache.” Rapunzel says, feeling oddly hollow. Her mouth moves, automatic, everything _fine_. “Can you have Lila draw a bath for me? I’ll take the rest of missives in my room. Thank you, Nigel.”

_lie still, lie silent._

_feathers, feathers, drifting from the ceiling. the doors are cracked in and she steps through, a jittery, nervous energy flowing through her. The throne room lies oddly misshapen; the walls tilt to a point. there are paintings everywhere, up the columns and walls and even across the windows, birds and lanterns and flowers; childhood scribbles. darker things creep into the margins, black birds and lengths of vine that tangle with heavy chains, daggers dripping red._

_she runs to the meteor, down the length of the hall, so, so long now, and the marble twists like blue-black stone, unnatural and organic. the flowerbeds overflow with streams of seawater heavy with floating clouds of red-tinged spume, and her bare feet slap through it, kicking up droplets that freeze in the air. her hair flickers black and drips ink._

_the cage is heavy with leaves, little silver-tinged things with serrated sharp edges. the bird inside flutters, frantic. the long thorns have nearly reached the center, and are growing further as she stares in silent horror. yelling, voiceless, she bashes her hands against the surface, pushes her fingers through the gaps and the thorns dig sharp little furrows against her skin but she shoves anyway_ _—_

_and the little brown bird stills. It tilts its head up at her as blood drips down the upper bramble, and it opens its beak. the savage branches pierce it from every little angle, and it writhes, impaled and it sings._

_an awful song, a beautiful song, it’s the prettiest thing she’s ever heard. it bleeds and sings and rapunzel sobs as the floor shatters out from under her and she’s falling through the air, one easy step from her balcony, and the city is bright below and she lands in the dirt in a path in the center of a forest and she sits up, gasping._

_because cassandra is there. cass, standing from a crouch above the pinned and pierced body of adira, and there’s so much blood, and cass laughs a broken sound and flicks red from her claws. she rolls her head on her shoulders and smiles coyly at rapunzel lying there, the path broken by jagged stones. she can’t move, she’s rooted to the ground._

_“is it enough, rapunzel?” cass purrs, closing._

_is it?_

_is it_

**_enough_ **

Rapunzel rockets up, screaming. Pascal chitters, from where he’s ducking from her hair, which weaves long and golden above her bed, a violent tangle, curved over them like a maw and latching at anything it can grab. It goes limp a few seconds after her eyes spring open, and she rolls over the edge of the bed, heading for the door in her nightgown even as Eugene forces it open, flanked by the guards.

“Rapunzel what, _Rapunzel_ —!”

She charges past him, the apology saved for later, always another apology. Down the flights of stairs, out of the castle and towards the stables, where she rallies a confused Maximus without even bothering to saddle him. She thinks she says, “Max I’m sorry we have to go,” but maybe not even that; her throat feels thick and she tastes sour bile in the back of her throat. Max, loyal, wonderful Max, doesn’t hesitate. They take off, soaring down the cobbled main road, across the bridge, and she steers the stallion in the direction of the woods near Old Corona.

_This can’t be happening, she wouldn’t. Something has her. She wouldn’t._

Adira was smart, Adira was experienced, and knew the danger, and she had Hector, and. But Cass had the moonstone; one half of the most powerful objects that they knew of, but she _wouldn’t. A dream or another premonition, something._

The sound of the river babbling past the trees reaches her through the din. Max whinnies, and she searches desperately for the spot. She spies the tables first; remnants of Varian’s alchemical stations, and _there._ Nestled by the edge of the creek; a small pointed pile of black stones, hardly higher than her knees.

She drops down beside them, and it’s like running on instinct, like painting, maybe. Fear swells up, a sick black tide and she grasps at the slick stones. There are cuts on her hands, little red lines. She whimpers.

“Cass listen to me, you have to stop, please! You’re not a monster, you’re not this, please, please don’t hurt them.” 

She doesn’t even know if Cass can hear her, but this feels right under all the wrong, and she _pushes_ until her hair starts to flicker gold, reflected in the water. Fireflies dance, in and away. Max, making noise behind her. _Please don’t, please, I know this isn’t you, I know._ She loves her too much, for this to be the final line. Not this song, this lullaby of woe. 

A flicker, familiar. Everything feels very far away. 

And then the world is full of sick, ringing pain. Anger, feral and contagious, a red-black miasma, ringed with fang and thorn. A bird pierced, singing. Terror fills her, for herself, for Adira, and for Cassandra, somehow most of all. She’s so sorry, she’s so sorry for all of it. She’d swallow it all, if she could, take it and lock it in a tower, away from everyone and everything she cared about. Her voice breaks.

“ _CASS PLEASE_ —!!!”

Confusion. Guilt, and shame and anger; a terrible _yearning._ It washes over her slow, an uncertain amount of time later. She tells Eugene that Cass stopped, but that she doesn’t know what happened next after the connection was broken, as he directs Max home and she trembles against him, flanked by the guard. She is tired, and discussions are pushed aside for later, because she is the Queen, and she says so. She thinks of letters, and blood, and whispers. She sits on the floor with the largest canvas she has, and she paints with her hands, a labyrinth that pours out over the edges, with the thorn-bird trapped in the center. 

They send the guard to search a few miles past the wall, but they find nothing. She’s sure the Captain only remains in the castle and off the search because she asks him to, and even then she’s not sure how long that will last. 

It’s Lance who brings her the news. “They’re back.” She can tell from the look on his face, how he pales and the less than confident slope of his broad shoulders that it’s not good news.

The infirmary is a hustle of activity; the royal medic and her assistants, sprinting back and forth. It’s a cold stone chamber set somewhere in the center of the palace; full of weird things in jars and skeletons on display. Settling into the castle, she had visited it early on when she had a million questions to ask about the body after what had happened with Eugene and the dagger. She had never really pictured the place..in use.

Adira is up, a least, and respite at that floods her like the morning sun. The medics step aside, momentarily, and she’s peppered with information that only half sinks in. The warrior looks grimly up at her, though she tries to parse a smile. She’s holding a thick roll of cloth to the side of her neck, laden with something strong and herbal smelling. Behind her, the medic and the assistants murmur over a table; where the long, wan form of Hector is laid.

Most of him.

The room swims and she catches herself on the edge of the table. A worried assistant carries over a chair and leaves to fetch tea. 

“Adira.” Rapunzel breathes, engulfed with accountability. “What—what happened? I saw..there was a vision.”

The older woman looks her over, oddly reticent for an instant. Her long white hair has come undone from it’s complex braid, and for a giddy moment Rapunzel thinks it’s almost as much as hers. There is dirt and soot caked up most of one side of her armor, and the other half is stained and soaked with blood that doesn’t seem to be her own. 

Adira starts to speak. “We caught wind of her again, somewhere outside of Fortuna. We decided to..wait, and watch, to see what we could glean. Cassandra was moving west, obviously, but we were only partially sure of her destination. Her path was...erratic, moving in circles. If she had kept a straight line she may have been here weeks ago. As it was.. she rarely stopped. At all, for anything. Not even to sleep.” 

_wither and decay_

“Near Vardaros..” Rapunzel flinches and Adira nearly stops. She shakes her head.

“There were rumors, of people being attacked in the forest. An incident in the town. We made the choice to act.” The warrior sighs, heavily, and she looks more weary than the princess has ever seen her. A glance, back at Hector. Hector, alone, without his pet bearcats. The man looks bloodless; covered in sweat and his breathing shallow. The medic hunches over the remains of his leg, working. 

“...You _confronted_ her.”

Adira looks at her sharply. The woman forces the tension out of her shoulders. Softly, “Rapunzel...she’s slipping. Or slipped. I am not..even sure this is entirely the opal’s doing.” A wince, as she adjusts the cloth. Her eyes flicker, searching, mulling over her next words with a gentle tact that the warrior usually forgoes. Rapunzel can see she’s trying not to upset her further. It’s not working, and she doesn’t want it. 

“But I believe she intends you harm. She’s coming here.”

“She wouldn’t hurt me.” Selfish, reflexive. _She’s Cassandra, she’s my friend. I love her._

Adira levels her with a heavy stare. Another sigh, a moment where she looks to the side, thinking. “I know you care. But there is proof.” Wincing, she pulls the cloth away from her neck. Rapunzel cringes and raises a hand to her mouth. There’s a fresh scar there; fractal and strange, like the boughs of a tree. Red, it ferns down across the warrior’s lower right shoulder; up her neck by her ear and the lower part of her jaw. It looks like lightning. Adira covers it back up, conciliatory, but she still looks pointedly at Hector. 

“Adira I’m so sorry.” She feels despair. But the woman is shaking her head. She is a warrior, and they knew the risks; people have lost more in battle against powers such as this. Their long and hard duty. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before, but all the same. There are more pressing matters, now. She leans forward. “She can control the powers of the moonstone. Your highness, if I were advising you..I would have you leave Corona. But to what end, I do not know.” 

Rapunzel stares at her. Because Cass was supposed to come back. Because the fear the rocks showed her wasn’t supposed to be real. Because she had _faith._ She says, “I can’t abandon my Kingdom.”

Adira nods, like she didn’t expect any other answer. “Only the sundrop can match the power of the opal. That much I am certain of.” 

_But what am I supposed to do now?_ The princess wants to scream; and it’s unfair of her think, in the face of what the two brotherhood have given up for her errand. She should have been out there herself, looking for Cassandra. Maybe if she had, this wouldn’t have happened. She’d been able to stop her through the stones, so maybe—

“Rapunzel.” Adira says, gentle again. She must have looked like she was panicking, because the woman stands up and steadies a hand against her shoulder. “We make ourselves an anchor for all the heaviest regrets inside of us. Whatever you choose to do..don’t permit it to drag you down.”

Leaving Corona is not an option.

Something has her. The dreams, the nightmares, the visions. She feels it, buried underneath the burning sea of rage; Cassandra is terrified. Something has her and she clings to the thought like a lifeline; and spins it into the thread that she’ll use to weave a plan. 

“ _Why are you so sure?” Eugene had asked. “That she won’t hurt you?”_

_She doesn’t know. “I’d do the same for you. Think the same.”_

Clouds roll in slow over the water, the first storm of winter coming in soon to call. 

_Whatever you choose to do.._

_Difficult choices make us who we are._

She stares up at the mural painted over the door to her room; the bright, flowing flock of birds. She’s been trapped before, but she wasn’t now, not in any sense of the word. On the other side of the room, the canvas with the bizarre maze pattern rests, unmounted and half folded. 

Cass was trapped. Lines, Rapunzel never saw, never knew. 

“..No one gets to say if you’ll stay a ghost.” _Set yourself free._ Opportunity; station; connection. Responsibility. Betrayal burns, and she has her own open wounds to tend, questions still left to ask. But Cass wasn’t a monster; she wasn’t whatever the opal..or the thing in her dreams was marching her here to do. 

Cass was more.

And so was she.

“We’re going to evacuate the city to the mainland. We can use the ships; families first. Once we know everything is safe, than we can..begin bringing people back.” Rapunzel sits in the center of the throne room, amidst a sea of paper lanterns. She delegates to Nigel and the Captain as she folds, wiring candles into the pockets.

There’s an awareness, strange and almost musical, at the edge of her periphery. Ever since the vision, she’s been able to feel it. Cassandra, getting closer. Like longing, like before. The sundrop and the moonstone. A torrent of emotion, simmering just under the surface, locked down tight, leaking out in crystal notes.

 _Reunite them,_ Demanitus had said. He’d predicated betrayal, but he hadn’t said anything about this. 

“Captain.” The princess says, steady, kindly. “..I want you to escort the ships. And my parents. Please make sure that everyone is safe.” She knows it isn’t fair; but she can’t risk having anyone else around when Cassandra arrives. The image of the Captain’s helmet impaled on a spike lurks in the back of her mind.

“Protecting you is included in the job, your highness.” He says, and she knows that’s not all he’s thinking. “..By your orders.”

Fold back, fold forward. Glue and paint. Rinse, repeat. Words to say, running through her lips, silent. Surety duels the risk. The doors to the throne room swing open and she jumps, blinking.

“You know Sunshine,” Eugene grins. “I should be hurt that you tried to leave me out of making the one craft I actually know how to _do_ , but if these are for Cass I’d probably paint on a few more fangs. Maybe a tasteful bat.” 

Behind him, Lance says, “And I’ve really improved with my painting skills. Wait till you see it princess; you’ll be able to put them on the market. _Collectable._ ”

The former thieves stride into the room, and Eugene sweeps her to her feet, scattering gold and orange paper. Her heart thumps, and she beams at him. “I brought some help.” From the hall, a group of people pour in; Kiera and Catalina bound across the floor through the lanterns, chatting and grinning. Varian pulls out half a dozen chemicals that when combined will burn cleaner and brighter than the tiny candles; Xavier and Feldspar, Atilla and the others, and even the Captain returns, pulling up paper with a determined, if stolid nod. The guards will pass more out, in town, he says.

“Eugene..” Rapunzel sniffs and smiles, knuckling her eyes. Pascal churrs, and nuzzles into her shoulder. 

“Tell me you didn’t forget you’ve got an entire Kingdom behind you.”

“No.” The princess grins, loved, full of hope and warmth, and she loops her arms around his neck. _If you ever lose your way._ She's been foolish, hasn't she. This will work, it has to. They’re going to bring Cass home. “How could I ever.”

In the end, she wishes she hadn’t had to send him away, but she’s not sorry that she did. 

The plan advanced, sort of. Varian would flank with the amber caustic, in case her attempt to talk Cass down really did go sideways. Max and Eugene would provide backup. It wasn’t sound, especially, but it was something. It wasn’t _running._

And then the Captain headed for the bridge.

“ _Please_ Eugene.” She cups Pascal and places him on the man’s shoulder. She nods at Varian, who stares apprehensively back and forth between them. “Get him out of there and head for the nearest safe house. I will talk to her.”

“Rapunzel this is insane.” All his faith is in her, but in that moment there’s a fear in his eyes. Uncertainty. Neither of them really knows how this will go. But she trusts her instincts. 

“I need to try, Eugene. I know she’s still in there.” He has to listen, he has to believe her. She loves him and she can’t jeopardize him in the way that she’s about to. Not the way she did before, with the storm. It’s not a lie; and if he can make it back, maybe that’s better. But. 

“We don’t have anymore time. _Please.”_ She can feel the stones reaching out in the distance, the wall breaking down, a distant song. Her hair scintillates, twitching with a desire to escape the braid. It’s now or never. 

“ _Go.”_

Zhan Tiri, then. She really should have known.

Cassandra looks so light, so fragile, when they finally pick her up. The black stone falls away and they cover in her a fallen tapestry, and she sends whoever is left to run and find the medic, bring anyone back who can help, anyone.

It’s terrifying. There is a lot of blood. She can still taste _stars,_

“Cass, hold on, please.”

Rapunzel sits with her, through the week, while the medic frets and then wonders as the wounds knit faster than humanly possible. There are times when Cass stirs, eyes closed, coughing blood, and the princess grimaces and wipes her mouth clean and settles her back into the bed; dabs a cloth soaked in water at her lips. What had Adira said; months without..sleep? Stopping? It’s unconscionable. Months, with that _thing_ circling around her. In her?

_Cass._

Eugene joins her in the vigil, some nights, but the castle is a wreck; the bridge is gone, and the damage has had other later noticed consequences. Her own scratches sting, but they’re an easier fix. Owl keeps a quiet, severe watch. 

She missed her so much. The ache tugs at her in a rare way, and in the face of everything that has happened she puts aside examining it too closely. And she still doesn’t know when Cassandra will wake up. She doesn’t know how soon after that she might have to let her go, again. There is still a lot to talk about; and the conversations build selfishly in the back of her mind.

The opal is so strange. She was close to it before; for that split second, but to see it embedded there is..disconcerting. Or familiar. She’s not sure. There is a resonance about it that she can’t place, and while she sits at Cass’s beside there’s sometimes the urge to reach over and _touch_ but she doesn’t. There’s already been a hundred invasions of privacy, and her hair hasn’t reacted since Cass passed out. The bandages she learns and helps to change, and she cries, later, remorsefully, over the state of Cass’s arm; the blackened skin and veins, and her wounds, and all of it.

Later, Pascal watches her with lizard-like understanding, as she folds her arms against the edge of her balcony and breathes in a clear cool moment. Snow settles on the stone. “I don’t think it’s all over yet, little guy.” How could it be. This was only the first step. Demons, and scrolls, and the scope of Kingdoms. Whatever the right to rule really was. Her family, and her friends. All she wanted to do was gather them all up in her arms and keep them safe. She could see then, how her father could go so astray in his grief and his doubt.

“But we’ve got a lot of people behind us.” And she would be there for Cassandra, when she woke up, when she needed. If that was what she wanted. (It was what she wanted, that much she could admit.) There were sorrows, and there were shadows, but shadows passed. Blocked suns, and clear skies. The princess of Corona smiles. “Who can change alone?”


End file.
